Could you Imagine?
by Casteline
Summary: "So let me get this straight," Peter whispered. "We have company, so I have to dress nice, but you don't have to wear a shirt?" Peter/Neal Slash


For those of you wondering if I'll be doing a sequel to _A Promise of More_ (because a **lot **of you have asked), the answer is dundundundun (that was a drumroll, if you couldn't tell): YES! I started working on it yesterday while I was waiting for my anthropology class to start. I also started another White Collar one shot, which is my current priority, but the sequel is the second on my list. I don't know how long it will take, 1-2 weeks probably, maybe longer if I have too much stuff going on.

Anyway, on to _this_ fic...

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Could You Imagine?**

Peter opened the front door and was greeted by Satchmo tackling him.

"Woah boy," he exclaimed, setting his briefcase and keys on the floor and then patting the dog. "Honey, I'm home," he called, the turned his attention back to the dog who was practically vibrating he was so excited. "What have you been up to today mister?"

"Besides breaking every appliance we own?" Neal asked, rounding the corner wearing nothing but a pair of black slacks and a blue apron.

"Hey," Peter greeted, kissing him. "What's for dinner?"

"I ordered pizza and Chinese," Neal replied.

"Sounds delish. I'm gonna head upstairs and change." He gave Neal another kiss, then started up the stairs while Neal went back to the kitchen.

"Hey," Neal called, loud enough for him to hear. "Nice clothes. Diana and Christy are joining us tonight." He could hear Peter groan, but smiled, knowing he didn't really mind. Neal then went back to the cake he was baking.

Several minutes later, he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his waist, then a kiss was placed on his neck.

"So let me get this straight," Peter whispered. "We have company, so I have to dress nice, but you don't have to wear a shirt?"

"I didn't want to get cake batter on it," Neal laughed.

"Isn't that the whole purpose of an apron?" Peter asked between kisses. Neal rolled his eyes, tilting his head to offer Peter a better angle.

"Maybe I just wanted to give you a show when you got home from work," he flirted.

"Speaking of work," Peter said, pulling away, causing Neal to whine slightly. "We have to be in early tomorrow. Biannual reviews," he informed him, opening the fridge.

"Aww, I hate biannual reviews. You put that cheese down right now mister. No munching before dinner."

Peter scowled but replaced the cheese and closed the fridge. "No one likes biannual reviews."

"Why do I have to go? I'm not even FBI."

"No, but you're my consultant and they need to make sure… well, that you haven't been up to your old shenanigans."

"My shenanigans are not old. They're young and sprightly," he smiled. Peter rolled his eyes. "Besides, you'd think that after six years of checking up on me, they'd realize I'm reformed."

"You'd think," Peter went along with him.

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, food's here," Neal said, hopping towards the door.

"Tell me you didn't order from Cicero's again," Peter said realizing that was the only place in the area that sold both pizza and Chinese.

"God no," Neal called over his shoulder. "Pizza from Piarma's and Chinese from Mae She's," he said before pulling the door open to reveal the Piarma's delivery boy. "Hi," he grinned, pulling a wallet out of his back pocket. "How much do I owe you?"

"16.42," the teen replied boredly.

Neal handed him a twenty and took the pizzas. "Thanks," he smiled, closing the door as the boy turned to leave.

"I don't think Mae She's is real Chinese," Peter said when Neal returned to the kitchen. He set the pizza's on the counter, then went back to putting icing on the cake.

"Pft, of course it is. Have you seen the people who work there?" Neal finished decorating the cake (Peter thought it looked positively beautiful, just like it's creator) and turned to Peter with a smile. He then leaned up and pulled him into a long, slow kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Neal pulled the apron off and walked away. "I'm going to go find my shirt before they get here." Halfway up the stairs, the doorbell rang again. "That should be the Chinese. Will you get it? The delivery boy is Chen, and he'll try to con you into giving him too much money. Don't let him get away with it."

When Neal came back down the stairs, he caught Peter trying to swipe icing off the cake.

"You lay a finger on that cake and you won't any," he threatened. Peter jumped away in surprise, causing Neal to giggle a little. "You're so cute when you're guilty," he said, kissing him.

Then the doorbell rang, once again, interrupting them.

"That should be them," Neal said, pulling away. "Come in!" he shouted.

"And if it's not them, then you just invited a band of evildoers into our house."

"I hate to break it to you, but unless those evildoers were vampires, they could have gotten in with or without my invite," Neal said, kissing him again.

"Aw, you two are so adorable," Diana grinned as she and Christy joined them in the dining room. "Aren't they adorable Chris?" she asked her partner.

"Absolutely," she grinned back.

Neal pulled away from Peter and turned to the girls, blushing slightly. Peter didn't remove his hands from Neal's waist, but loosened enough to allow Neal to move around.

"So what's for dinner boys?" Diana asked with a smile.

"Chinese and pizza," Neal answered. "And marble cake with butter cream frosting for desert."

"Trying to fatten us up are you?" Christy asked as she and Diana sat at the table.

"Always," Peter smiled, while he and Neal went to the kitchen to bring the food out.

"It's amazing," Diana told Neal over an hour later. "How you manage to make take out exciting."

"Hey, that cake was pure homemade," Neal shot back, feigning offense.

"And it was delicious. So was the coffee. Always is. We need you're Italian roast in the office."

"I've been trying to tell Peter that for _years_," Neal rolled his eyes.

"If we had this in the office, no one would get any work done because they'd spend the whole day at the coffee machine."

"I've tasted FBI coffee," Christy said, making a face. "It tastes like turpentine." Diana and Neal laughed, while Peter rolled his eyes.

"Thanks again for having us over," Diana said, rising from her chair. Christy, Neal and Peter followed suit. "We should get going."

"Dinner was wonderful," Christy thanked them.

"It was good seeing you again," Peter said, as Christy hugged him, then Neal. Diana gave them each a quick kiss on the cheek before they left.

Once they were gone and the door was locked behind them, Peter pulled Neal into another kiss.

"Could you imagine," Neal said between kisses as Peter lead them up the stairs and into the bedroom. "What our lives would be like, if we'd never met. Or even if we just never got together."

"Sounds terrible," Peter muttered, kissing him harder and removing his shirt. "Let's not think about it."

"Agreed," Neal replied, unbuckling Peter's belt.

Peter's eyes shot open. He was lying in his bed and the sun was just rising. He tilted his head to face the figure lying next to him.

"Morning," El smiled.

_Could you imagine? If we never got together?_

Yeah, he could imagine it. He was living it.


End file.
